The Conversation
by ShellSueD
Summary: Very short one-shot where Ranger shares some unwanted information with Morelli.


_JE owns the rights to anything familiar - all the mistakes are mine and sorry about those._

_This takes place directly after the events of **ELEVEN ON TOP**_

* * *

It was late on a Tuesday afternoon and the restaurant was nearly empty. Only a few regulars were occupying tables and the counter, enjoying the best pizza in Jersey.

I had my back to the wall in the last booth so I could have my eyes on the door. The iced tea I ordered sat on the table in front of me, untouched, and I watched the beads of water chase each other down the glass as the ice melted in the oppressive heat. It was August, and Shorty's didn't have air-conditioning.

This location was chosen deliberately by me. I wanted to be on my own turf when I broke what would probably be unwelcome news.

I glanced at my watch. He was late. Not excessively, but definitely late. I suppose I could cut him a break, seeing as he's currently handicapped.

The overworked and overheated waitress came by with a pitcher and eyed my still full glass of tea. She cocked a drawn-on brow, but continued by without comment.

I took a sip just as the solid wooden door swung open and Morelli hobbled through on crutches. He removed the aviator shades, tucked them into the neck of his t-shirt and scanned the room until he spotted me. He had his blank cop face in place but I didn't miss the tightening of his jaw when our eyes met. We've always had an amicable working relationship but simmering just below the surface was an undercurrent of distrust where I was concerned. He thought that I operated outside the law more often than not and it irritated him that he'd never be able to prove it.

I gave him a slight tilt of my head in acknowledgement and he began the slow trek to the booth. I suppose I could have chosen a table close to the door, knowing it was a struggle for him to get around, but I'm not that nice of a guy.

The clunk of his crutches hitting the linoleum with every step was audible, even over the excessively loud jukebox, and drew a few curious eyes as he made his way to the back.

By the time he reached me there was fine sheen of sweat covering his face and I almost felt bad for the guy. He slid into the booth after leaning his crutches up against the side and signaled for the waitress.

"Tea, gorgeous?" She asked after hustling over and giving him the once over, thickly mascara-ed lashes fluttering.

"With extra ice," Morelli said. "And pizza, pepperoni."

"You got it," she replied with a wink and for a second I thought her lashes were going to stick together.

As soon as she disappeared, Morelli got right to the point. "I assume this is important since you summoned me all the way out to this shithole. Is the pizza any good?"

"The pizza's good," I assured him. "How's the leg?" Might as well try to be pleasant before it gets ugly.

"I'll live," he said "but it hurts like a sonovabitch and it's starting to itch."

"Coat hanger," I supplied. "Bend one open and it'll fit inside the cast." I'd seen Tank do it when he broke his leg last year.

"Thanks for the tip," he said dryly and eyed the manila folder at my right elbow. "That why I'm here?"

I tapped it with my finger, affirming his observation and then slid it across the table just as our waitress appeared with tea and two slices of pepperoni. He waited until she was gone and after he'd eaten a slice and downed half his tea before opening it.

I sipped my own tea while he read. It was everything I could find on Constantine Stiva and there was enough in the file to put him away for life. Currently he was sitting in a cell, awaiting a trial on aggravated kidnapping and murder and would probably get life anyway, but I'd been able to unearth a few more dirty secrets and wanted as many nails in his coffin as possible. He'd nearly taken Stephanie from me and I was still harboring some anger about that.

Morelli's expression never wavered through the whole file and when he was done, he closed it and pushed it to his left, up against the napkin holder. He straightened his spine and met my gaze with hard, unyielding brown eyes.

"Interesting stuff."

I nodded and finished my tea. "Constantine has been a very bad boy for a very long time."

Joe worked the muscle in his jaw. "You could have sent this file to the station... or given it to Brian Simon; he took over the case when I got sidelined." He knocked on his cast as if reminding me his leg was broken.

That was true, and Morelli was smart enough to know I had an ulterior motive for delivering the file in person, and to _him_ in particular.

"Yeah, I could have," I agreed.

"So why am I here?"

This is where it had the potential to get incredibly ugly. I knew he was armed; I saw the bulge at the small of his back when he sat down and in his current physical condition, it was his only option for defense. I was fairly confident he wouldn't shoot me in the middle of Shorty's but I was prepared for every variable.

I slowly and deliberately set my hands on top of the table where he could fully see both of them and then said what I knew he was expecting.

"It's about Stephanie."

His expression didn't change, but his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "What about her?" He asked tightly.

"I'm interested in her - in a more than friendly manner."

Morelli's eye narrowed slightly in what might have been confusion. "This isn't news to me…or to anyone who has seen the two of you together. The only one who doesn't seem to be clued in is _Stephanie,_ so what's the rest of it?"

He had me there. Of course I'd never felt the need to keep my attraction for her a secret but he was wrong about her insight. Stephanie was very aware I wanted her. She just didn't know how much or in what capacity. When I'd found her locked in that cabinet at Stiva's and she came tumbling out into my arms, I was sure she was dead and my heart nearly stopped in my chest. I made the decision right then and there that I was going to make her mine before I ran out of chances.

"I plan on pursuing that interest," I told him. _"Aggressively."_

Joe stared at me for a full minute before crossing his arms over his chest and saying almost under his breath, "I knew it. When she came home without her underwear I god damn knew it. So you're fucking her and you'd thought it be fun to tell me in person? You fucking asshole."

It was the first time he'd let the blank face slip and though he hadn't raised his voice, a few patrons noticed the sudden tension in the air surrounding our booth. A couple at the counter got up and left, casting us a furtive glance on the way out the door.

I couldn't blame him for thinking that way. As I'd told Stephanie, if she'd been living with me and came home without underwear, it wouldn't be pretty when I found whoever had them. "You will believe what you want, but we aren't having an intimate relationship…._not yet_." I could have been the bigger man and not tacked that on at the end, but it _was_ the truth. Sooner rather than later, if I got my way, and I _always_ got my way.

"Jesus," Morelli breathed and for a second I thought he might go for his gun but he only shifted his weight and cut his gaze to the uneaten slice of pizza, now cold on the table between us. "Why are you even telling me this?" He brought his head back up and there was a slow burning fire behind his eyes.

"Because I think you're a good guy and a good cop and even though it's very one sided, I do respect you and your relationship with Stephanie...to a certain extent."

"So what? This is a courteous thing? '_Hey, just a heads up, I plan on making a move on your woman_.' Is that what this is?"

That pretty much summed it up. "Look, I know this isn't what anyone ever wants to hear, but yeah. I'm giving you fair warning. I want her and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get her, even if it means hurting you in the process. I respect you as a person. I respect you as a cop and I respect what you mean to Stephanie, but not enough to not go after what I want."

Morelli's fingers were curling into his biceps and I knew he was fighting the urge to reach across the table and strangle me. I couldn't find fault in that; I'd have the same thoughts if our positions were reversed.

_Except I'd probably actually do it._

"What do you expect me to do with this information?" He finally asked. "Do you think I'll just step aside? Did you think I'd just give up after this _declaration_ of intent?"

I may have hoped he would but no, Morelli's not the quitting kind. Fortunately, I'm more than prepared for the fight. "Not at all. Like I said, I'm just letting you know what my intentions are. I don't have any doubt you'll give me a run for my money."

"God, you're an arrogant bastard," he said. I guess maybe I didn't keep all of the sarcasm out of that statement. I gave him a small smile.

"This has been a distinct pleasure, Morelli, but I have another appointment." I dropped money on the table and slid out of the booth.

His quiet and controlled voice stopped me a couple steps from the table. "Why now?" I went back and stood over him, meeting his menacing eyes head on.

"Because it's time. It's actually _way _past time. I should have done this from the beginning and then we wouldn't be having this conversation, but it is what it is."

"Does she have any idea this is coming?"

"I doubt it, but I don't think she'll be surprised either."

"I won't make it easy for you. Just know that. Stephanie and I have a history…one that goes back a long time before you."

I gave him a single nod. "No one is debating that, Joe. You have a long history together, but I plan on having a long _future _with her - the rest of our lives kind of future so I'm not all that concerned with the past. Good luck with the leg and I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

With that I left him and the restaurant and headed out. There was only one place I wanted to go and I pointed my truck in that direction as soon as I hit the street. It probably shouldn't have, but the knowledge that Morelli had to know I was on my way to Stephanie's, made me smile.


End file.
